The city, New York City, is abuzz! I remarked just the other day that it feels like the city I fell in love with over a decade ago. I’m on year thirteen and I haven’t seen this level of vibrancy, youth, and renewal in several years. It’s exciting to absorb the rich contrast between holding it down with a NYC apartment during the pandemic (the healthcare cheers, daily fireworks, and protests) and being here to watch it reopen in all its glory. It’s a feeling nobody who left will ever truly appreciate — and they don’t deserve to either (no shade, I promise).
However, today’s writing isn’t about the party. I’ll admit, I’ve never been more social in my life. But, while focusing on the reclamation of life and freedom of movement (post-vaccination openings) is important, it’s also a giant distraction. The fundamental question bouncing around in my head as I look at humanity is “What will you take with you?”
Many of us spent the last year strengthening or exiting relationships, sitting with ourselves deeply examining, and rewriting our life’s script.
Whether it was starting therapy for the first time, finding a new diet or exercise regimen, or cutting ties with unhealthy habits, I don’t know one person in my life that didn’t experience a moment of growth and evolution. For all the negative things the pandemic had to offer, for some, there was a silver lining. Posing the question, “What will you take with you?” is not only a public interrogative, it’s an internal one as well. They say it takes a lifetime to build a reputation but a minute to ruin one. I’d argue that it takes weeks and months to develop consistent healthy habits, and only a few days of regression to derail them.
As an introvert, I’ve completely flipped the script recently. I’m now alone in an apartment and have had a little over a year of a challenging home life and nothing but FaceTime and video games as a (digital) social outlet. For the last few weeks, I’ve said yes to practically any invite that has come my way. I’ve created opportunities for socializing as well. And with that, has come a fun vice - alcohol consumption via my favorite apparatuses, cocktails or beer. Now, I haven’t lost the plot or anything. I haven’t gone overboard or lost my bearings, but I have been distracted from larger objectives from time to time. I’ve prioritized the fun over the hustle. I’m not convinced that’s a bad thing either, but like everything else moderation is key.
In service of remembering how incredible this year of pause was, I want to jot down publicly what will remain with me. What lessons I’ll take with me forever into future evolutions of my growth. Things that will remain important no matter life’s distractions:
❤️ Heart Stuff
We have several basic human instincts from our brain (the rational and analytical self) to our guts (intuition). Sometimes these things work in concert and sometimes these things refuse to be on the same page. In romantic relationships, I’ve often spent way too much time relying on my brain — like a manager on the warehouse floor with a clipboard and checklist. Are these boxes being checked? If so, what proportion? But love isn’t a business that can be maximized for optimal productivity. You can use your brain to be smart about things like red flags or acting on decisions of the heart in a respectful way.
Ultimately, I’ve learned that being with someone is fully (but not solely) an act of the heart. How you feel when you’re with someone, when you look at them, when you touch… that’s the litmus test. It truly doesn’t matter how cool they are, how awesome their job is, or whether you’re into the same stuff. Follow the feelings, most of the other stuff is either not important or negotiable.
🔭🚀 Holding Space
Before the pandemic, I’ve never heard so many human beings wear the phrase “I’m busy,” or “I just don’t have the time,” as a badge of honor. Seriously, no disrespect to people that have been devastated by this pandemic, but it really did something special for me because I planned for emergencies (lots of savings). It allowed me to press pause. It allowed me to do things for me without having to worry about my productivity levels or chasing clients for work. I spent the first couple of months in the pandemic enjoying home cooking and mixology, taking long bike rides, and playing as much PlayStation as my eyes and fingers could support. I also used the opportunity to bolster my support of the creative community, and community at large with financial education and social shares on the challenges of race in society through podcasting and social media. These are things anyone can do, but you can’t do it unless you create the space.
I was lucky. The pandemic forced me to take space and I was fortunate enough to have been diligent about saving money so when I was forced it didn’t cause panic. I don’t know if this will ever happen again, but I do know that holding space for myself is something I can’t watch slip away. I’m being more conscious about blocking time on my calendar for bike rides, deep work, and travel. I’m being more cautious about what new friends I add to my orbit. I’m having richer conversations when I connect with people that matter to me. I’m saying no to work on weekends when I’m feeling overcommitted or underwater. Hold space for yourself because no one will do it for you. Don’t hand over all that space to vices and distractions though. Make sure to balance your time with things that truly enrich you — garden those passions and intentions for growth.
🍳 Simplicity Over All
I swear it’s sometimes easier to overcomplicate stuff than it is to trust your gut and do what feels right. Ever since I read the book The Courage to be Disliked I’ve been espousing — Life is simple, but living simply is hard. Simply, if whatever in front of you seems complex then you probably haven’t unpacked it enough. And when you get to the base layer of that problem, the answer is typically quite simple but acting on it is the hard part. It’s an incredibly hard decision to cut someone out of your life that you care about. But, sometimes relationships with friends or loved ones become toxic or in a state of disrepair. The other side doesn’t always want to troubleshoot or work through an issue, and that’s their prerogative. The reason we stay in something is usually the intersection of emotion and unhealthy rational — I love this person and I’ve invested all this time, as an example. Overgeneralization, but I love doing that.
Life is simple, but living simply is hard. Living a simple life is much more fulfilling and rewarding than the alternative. I’m not fully there yet, but I recognize two words that were constant sources of pain for me before starting the transition: stress and anxiety. I still occasionally lack the courage to steer away from avoidance or over-complication, but by and large, the picture has gotten much clearer. I’ve learned to stop putting so much emphasis on the near or far future when it comes to a lot of things, but especially love and relationships. Being happy today doesn’t mean signing up for a 1-year or even lifetime contract. Who needs that kind of pressure? It just means saying yes to the happiness and being present for it day-by-day. Life has never been easy, but it’s always been simple if you have the courage and willingness to accept that truth and act on it.
That’s all she wrote, or I guess he wrote in this case. Thanks for sticking with me even though the essays have become less frequent. I try to write when there’s something meaningful to say, not just because I can. I’m glad you’re here with me and continue to follow along. Talk soon!